


Indulgence

by Dontgotone



Series: Commission Works [4]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Large Breasts, M/M, Office Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 22:18:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17906693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dontgotone/pseuds/Dontgotone
Summary: Prowl is a busy boy but sometimes you've just got to take some time to work off the pressure.Thankfully he knows someone who's always willing to lend a hand





	Indulgence

**Author's Note:**

> Commission for Anonymous  
> Contains Robots with Breasts  
> Robots with non-standard genital arrays

People called Prowl a workaholic. Said he didn't take any breaks, that he worked dawn till dusk and would only stop if his processor melted, and even then he'd keep crunching the numbers until his last moment. They weren't entirely wrong. From the moment he woke up all the way until he lay down for his recharge, at least a portion of Prowl's thoughts were running logistical simulations and double, triple, quadruple checking provisions and plans. But even if he had a small part of him dedicated to the numbers, he still took breaks to relieve the pressure. He probably took more than most of the top brass, in fact, just little five minute breaks so he could get back to concentrating fully on the problems at hand. 

Lately, he'd had to take those breaks more frequently. Discomfort, stiffness, a deep-seated ache... He needed to move around and get comfortable before he could sit back down and work. Today, however, he'd been so busy he hadn't had the chance. There had just been so much to do. And because of that, here he was, staring blankly at a data pad and scowling. He could barely concentrate on anything but the discomfort he was feeling, and pretty quickly gave up trying. This wasn't efficient. This wasn't the best way to get himself back to tip top analytical condition. 

The problem was, now that it was late in the evening, most of the base was deserted. Which meant his comings and goings would be more obvious. And although Prowl took a lot of his little comfort breaks, he didn't want anyone knowing about them. Especially not... Well, no sense inviting misfortune with specific examples. Instead, he got up, told the computer to dim the lights and close the windows, and took a moment to peek outside his door before closing and locking that as well. 

With that privacy established, Prowl leaned both hands against the door and slowly exhaled. The click of his armor unlatching before it clattered to the floor was entwined with a heavy release of steam, the heat that had been building under his chest plate absolutely sweltering. He hadn't even realized just how uncomfortable it had been until he felt his chest mesh spread and take its full space, his breasts feeling larger than they'd ever had. 

The energon sacks had been a recent development... Well, their size at least, and since he'd noticed it felt like he'd gained a cup size or two. It meant that wearing his chest plate for more than an hour was an ordeal, and a whole day like today was absolute torture. He cupped one of the hanging mounds with his hand and hissed. The extra long duration of being cooped up and compressed, the friction of his movements during the day... It had left the mesh incredibly sensitive. It was almost electric as he smoothed over the surface with one palm... And then did it again. And again. 

Fuck... It stung and everything was sensitive but...

It felt damn nice. 

Before he knew it, Prowl was moaning quietly, both hands gently lifting and caressing his own chest, running his fingers over the tender nubs at the tip of the mesh. He could feel his spark throb and pulse with each motion, the sensitivity only getting worse the more he fondled himself. 

This wasn't... He was still in public, technically. He had to stop. Had to get back to work, go back to his data pads, and then rush home to... Finish things. 

But he just couldn't pull his hands away, and he was becoming aware of his moaning getting even louder. 

He turned, putting his back against the door and bending his knees a little, thighs spread as he continued to indulge. He glanced at his desk, arching his back when his optics flitted over the familiar silver frame wearing the largest grin he'd ever seen. He gave each breast an experimental squeeze, and his knees knocked together to try and keep himself from falling down on his aft. 

Wait. 

What had that been?

"Jazz??!?? How in Unicron's gullet did you get in here?!?"

Prowl almost fell down from shock, both arms crossing in front of him, trying to hide his exposed mesh, trying to keep the tender, sensitive and quite visible nubs from Jazz's view. The other Autobot shrugged as if this was entirely normal, and slid himself off the desk and into a strut in one of the smoothest motions Prowl had ever seen. Usually, when he was admiring Jazz's motions it was on the battlefield, or when he was alone, but today... 

"well, grumpy bot, I figured I'd come drop by my reports in person since you weren't answering your comm."

Prowl took only a moment to confirm that yes, his HUD did indicate several unanswered communication pings and messages, and still when his full attention returned to the once commander he was caught by surprise at just how close he'd gotten. He could almost hear his processor spinning in place when warm, strong hands caught his own and fingers intertwined with his, and Jazz was still getting closer, leaning in.

"And then I see you locking up so I think oh, I'll just have a little bit of fun. I'll sneak in and... Oh, he's having a bit of a fun time, and I thought about how nice it would be to join in... And here we are."

The cool touch of Jazz' chest plate pressed against Prowl's mesh, and his spark ached for more. He wanted to press forward. Wanted Jazz to pin him against the wall with that pressure, to run his fingers all over his... Prowl shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. There was work to be done, there was ample time on the weekend to... What was he... 

Jazz gave a grateful moan around Prowl's finger, lips and glossa coating it with a warm, wet touch that sent bolts of lightning through his frame. Jazz bobbed his head just enough to make the tactician's knees weak, and then he had the nerve to stop! 

"May I, Prowl? These additions of yours look wonderful to play with, and now you've gotten me in a _mood_."

Prowl's vents hitched at the possessiveness he heard in that one word. Even had he been thinking properly, Prowl wasn't certain he'd have managed to say no. And today, with his chest so tender and sensitive, with the way Jazz swayed back and forth and both pressed against and withheld contact from his tender mesh? He was mesmerized. Completely. Entirely. 

"You better start before I force you out the door and do it myself." 

Jazz answered by pushing forward, pinning him against the wall and pressing that cool metal frame of his against Prowl's soft mesh. Fingers caressed and gently gripped, a thumb teasing the sensitive nub and making the tactician moan. One of the qualities he'd always appreciated with Jazz was his efficiency, and now he was getting a wonderful example at the visored bot's glossa slid between his lips and Prowl found his processor overwhelmed.

The kiss had a definite hunger to it, and Jazz kept applying the pressure against his chest. It hurt, there was some discomfort to it, but at the same time whenever those fingers squeezed Prowl could feel his spark thrum with excitement. He could feel his vents going on overdrive, trying to cool him down as it became harder and harder to think, to process everything with Jazz biting at his lips, the door groaning behind him, his sensitive mesh being pressed against and squeezed and lightly flicked. 

When Jazz pulled away, he almost fell to his knees. He was so worked up and he'd lost himself so entirely in being made to feel good he'd entirely forgotten to put up any sort of composure so the other bot wouldn't see the effect he was having. Instead of the indignant frustration he should have displayed when Jazz stepped further away, tugging playfully at the nubs on his chest, Prowl followed along. It wasn't a strong grip or a harsh motion, just a playful, this side of painful pinch on the sensitive mesh and the barest of tugging motions while Jazz moved towards his desk, and Prowl followed docilely along.

He felt like his chest was turning into a direct conduit to his spark. Jazz was rolling and tweaking the very tips of it as he continued to move backwards, and Prowl didn't do a single move to stop him, only made weak grunts and cooing noises while following him along. This wasn't how he wanted Jazz to see him, desperate and overcome with sensation, absolutely overwhelmed by his own needs. 

He half expected Jazz to throw him across the desk, pushing data pads to the side. And much as the thought revved his engine, seeing the other bot calmly sit down in his own chair, thighs wide open and there, in between, modesty plating popped open, was his spike. The sight, how confident Jazz looked then, the way he looked at Prowl... He had to lean against his desk for a moment, the heat in his spark spreading very quickly everywhere else and making every motion a delight. 

"Take a seat, Prowl. You're looking a little unsteady."

"You've been watching too many human vids." Prowl sniped as he moved to sit in the other's lap. His own modesty panel flipped open, revealing a puffy, wet and already far past aroused valve. But he didn't sink down on Jazz' spike just yet. Instead, he pushed his hips back a bit harder, letting the slick, warm tip slide between his lips. Pushing his weight down, he heard Jazz's sudden intake when he started slowly grinding back and forth, getting his lubricants all over his spike. 

"Now who's been watching too many vids?" 

Prowl allowed himself an indulgent smirk before he yelped in surprise, both his legs swept out from under him. Jazz had folded him in half, and with the hold he had on him was rolling his hips back and forth. Suddenly, Prowl wasn't sure about his decision not to simply jump on Jazz and get that deep fucking going. The ridges in the other autobot's spike felt absolutely amazing as they ran back and forth against his dripping valve, and Prowl had to bite his lip not to beg for more. 

Once he'd acknowledged just how much he wanted it, the desire washed over Prowl's thoughts like a tidal wave. Jazz's playful nibbling along his neck cables was like a current that drove lightning through his spine. Even the discomfort of being folded in half the way he was, his knees pressed up on either side of his chest by Jazz's forearms... the bastard had found out that with the way his arms held Prowl's legs, the tactician's own arms were stuck out on the side. And there was nothing stopping Jazz's hands from grabbing handfuls of mesh so sensitive Prowl moaned, voice full of static.

He was starting to get impatient, trying to grind his way down onto Jazz's spike, but all that got him was a harder grip on his chest as the other bot moved him up and time. Once, twice, and then on the third pass there was a bit more motion and Prowl felt the tip pierce him, press inside and make his optics cross up. Jazz continued to hold him up, to keep him from sliding down all the way, but he was slowly shifting, pushing inside slowly and surely. Prowl growled for more, but he didn't dare move. What if Jazz slipped out? No, he wanted this, he _needed_ this. His spark was on fire and needing more as he felt the warm spike push it's way inside, and he barely noticed Jazz letting one of his legs go once he'd bottomed out. Every twitch and flex of either of them led to more shaking and shuddering. Jazz was trying to pretend he was in control, but it was clear he was losing it just as much as Prowl. 

"Ngh... Primus, Jazz, just let me down and I can lean on my desk, give you space to move..." 

It was as close as he'd get to begging the other bot to ream him hard. But instead, Jazz's glossa slid up one of his neck cables and Prowl tried to arch his back, putting more of his weight down on that nice, filling spike. 

"Instead, why don't you open up for me?"

He was about to ask why but the words were lost in a storm of static and swearing when he felt Jazz's fingers gently slide along the seam just above his valve. He never let anyone touch him there. Hell, he usually didn't even play with it himself, it was far too sensitive... But when Jazz bit down on his neck, the interior modesty plating popped open and the smaller, equally eager valve was exposed to the air. 

"F-fine but... You better frag me so well I can't walk tomorrow." Prowl tried to growl, the tip of Jazz's fingers turning the sound into a shocked whimper. It seemed the other Autobot knew what he was doing, at least. The second valve was so sensitive, half the time Prowl even tried to play with it he ended up getting too eager and hurting himself. Even so, the other's fingers only pressed hard enough to make his entire body shudder. The tip of his digits ran back and forth along the opening, and Prowl hissed, his larger valve clenching heavily around Jazz's spike.

"Oh don't worry Prowl, I intend to make sure you can't walk for a week... But first, let's see if I can make you so desperate even you can't think of anything but begging for more."


End file.
